The Light Side of Dark
by Rednic
Summary: What goes on in Ranger's life that has never been written about? Did he have other friends? What does he do when he's offline? Could there be another woman other than Steph who gets underneath his skin?


Title: **The Light Side of Dark**  
Category: Books » Janet Evanovich  
Author: Trinisxy  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Romance/Friendship  
Published: 03-19-09, Updated: 03-19-09  
Chapters: 1, Words: 7,109

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

_Disclaimer:_ Most of the characters in this story belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

Marissa Carter is my own fictional character.

**This is neither a Babe or Cupcake story. **

One shot. It is also my first fanfic.

I was reading through some older fics and wondered what went on in Ranger's life that never got written about. Did he have other friends? What does he do when he's offline? Could there be another woman other than Steph who gets underneath his skin? Is he really human?

**The Light Side of Dark**

A shadow fell over her desk and she looked up directly into guarded brown eyes.

"Aren't you out of your jurisdiction?" she asked dropping her head back to the task at hand.

"Is that how you greet all visitors to the Bureau?" he retorted with a hint of amusement lacing his tone.

"Just the ones who irritate the shit out of me."

"And I do that to you?"

"Constantly."

"Ouch. I'm hurt. But maybe the real reason I irritate you is because I play the game better than you."

He leaned over her desk now.

Her eyes flickered back up to meet his again. His words stung. It jolted a smattering of memories that she thought were safely tucked away in the back recesses of her mind. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

"What do you want Manoso?" she asked as she closed the report she had been reading and leaned back in her chair.

He could hear the weariness in her voice. The dark circles under her eyes told him that it had been a few days since she had a good night's sleep. But this was nothing new. As long as he had known her, she'd always been willing to sacrifice herself to get the results required to make a case go from _unknown _to _solved_. Too bad those requirements didn't weave themselves into her well-being. Yet, it was one of the reasons he liked her.

And that was saying a lot, as he didn't like most of the FBI agents he'd had to work with. But Marissa Carter was different. She didn't have that cocky, federal agent air about her. She didn't use her badge as a way to bully, justify or manipulate. She was fair in her decisions, and there were times he suspected she walked the "legally grey" path he had told Steph about.

He smiled at her then, and sat down in the vacant chair next to her desk.

"Like I said, I'm just visiting. Tank and I had business in New York."

Upon hearing his best friend and right-hand man's name she gave him a genuine smile.

"How is Pierre?" she asked with a hint of mischief in her voice.

She knew the big guy hated anyone to call him by that name, and survival would be sketchy if you did it to his face. But that was the way Marissa was; always taking the more risky, and less traveled road. But truth be told, Tank liked and respected her just the way he did with Steph. He liked her grit and blatant honesty. But most of all he liked the fact that she refused to be affected by Ranger's severe emotional retardation. Not like she was any better. She had her own emotional issues, and in a weird and complex way she and Ranger were well-matched.

This was a woman who could kick ass at the drop of a hat and shoot her way out of a Mexican drug den if the moment called for it. There were times Ranger wondered if she had a death wish. He had never known a woman as fearless, or some might say careless, of her own safety than Marissa. But yet still, on the few takedowns he had done with her she was always mindful of the safety of those around her and the possible victims.

She was a vision in battle though. She wasn't a petite woman by any means, and she carried her 5' 5", 140lb frame with a regal carriage. A frame he might also add that curved in all the right places, that managed to keep him awake until the wee hours of the morning on some nights. She was also very intuitive, and treated everyone, even criminals, with a degree of respect.

Of course, there were some criminals who mistook her kindness for weakness and found themselves at the wrong end of her gun. But after a few incidents in front of the Office of Professional Responsibility, and the threat to put her on probation if she shot anyone without justifiable cause, she had learned to curb her armory justice.

Her skill with a gun always made him proud though. She held it with pure confidence and lethal accuracy. Tank had made the observation once that she reminded him of an assassin because of her steady aim and lack of regret when she shot anyone or anything. Both Tank and he knew that she didn't shoot just for the sake of shooting. When Marissa pulled the trigger her intent was to maim or kill, and she made sure it would only take one or two bullets to do the job.

He had asked her once what went through her mind just before she took the shot, and she looked at him with a frown.

"What do you mean? Like thoughts?"

He nodded.

"Why the fuck would I be using energy to think when I could use that to line up my shot?" she had retorted.

God, she was entertaining.

He pulled himself back to the present.

"You should call Tank and ask him." he said, answering her question.

"Do you ever actually answer questions?"

Ranger knew she was getting irritated with him...and that was exactly the effect he wanted from her.

"Sure I do." he said with a shrug.

She shot him a dubious look. "Uh huh."

"I would never lie to you Agent Carter. And even if I did, your uncanny ability to sort through bullshit is academy worthy." He smiled. Tried to charm her.

She didn't fall for it. "Enjoy your stay in New York, Carlos. And don't get arrested like last time. I'm on stakeout duty tonight and won't be able to bail you out again."

He always enjoyed hearing her say his government name. Aside from his family and his ex-wife, everyone called him Ranger or Manoso.

_Carlos_ hinted at being very personal. Almost intimate.

It wasn't like he didn't know what intimate and personal felt like with Marissa.

He had tried to block out the memories and emotions that had surrounded them, but even Batman had his vulnerable moments. His eyes drank in her profile for a few seconds. Her bone structure curved delicately in a mixture of Asian and African-American facial features, which were framed by a halo of jet black, wavy hair that stopped just by her chin. Almond-shaped brown eyes, a proud nose and full lips highlighted her round face. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and his groin swelled in arousal as he remembered what she tasted like that night several years ago.

She was a rookie agent just out of the academy. He had just opened up his security company in Trenton, New Jersey with Tank and his cousin Lester Santos. He was also doing some bounty hunting for Vincent Plum Bail bonds. Unfortunately, Vinnie had bonded out a guy by the name of Tom Jackson who was arrested on a weapons violation charge in New Jersey. But unbeknownst to the authorities in New Jersey, Jackson was wanted in New York for sexually molesting four, three year-old girls at his girlfriend's daycare and had fled two days after the warrant had been issued.

Marissa had been assigned to the case, and had driven out to Trenton to work with the Joint Task force team that had been set up between the FBI, the TPD and Rangeman. He had felt something tangible between them when they had been introduced, but as was his policy during these types of partnerships, he buried the feelings and opted for professionalism.

But yet, every time she walked into a room, or sat next to him for a briefing, he would feel the attraction simmering just below the surface. He could tell Marissa had felt something too, but the word amongst the guys was that she was seeing another FBI agent in Special Ops, and things were serious between them. He wasn't so sure though. He kept getting vibes from her that grew and expanded each day when they worked together. She would touch his arm gently when she wanted to get his attention, if they sat together her knee would brush against his, making him shiver unexpectantly, and she had this doe-like way of looking at him when she asked him a question.

He was glad for his military training then, because it was by sheer determination and self-control that he didn't reciprocate any of her gestures. He wanted to. His body craved it. His ego demanded it. But he did nothing and denied every emotion that surged through him. It didn't feel like denial, or even rejection. It felt gallant.

On the last night they had worked together, he had discreetly studied her as she stared into her binoculars at a bar Jackson was suspected of frequenting. The sexual tension hung heavily in the air, cocooning them in a murky emotional puzzle. And as hard as he tried to not be affected by the sound of her voice, the way her clothes clung to her body, her Chapstick-coated full lips, her Dove deodorant scent, and her seductive almond-shaped eyes, he found himself on the losing side of the battle when she laughed at a comment he'd made about a female bounty hunter he had been training, and her aversion to sitting still during stakeouts.

"Why Carlos, do I detect a hint of attraction to this bounty huntress?" she had teased.

"We have a business arrangement and where my business is concerned that's not a topic up for discussion." he had replied stoically.

She had gotten the message.

If he had been truthful with himself, he would've admitted that even he didn't know just how strong his attraction was towards Stephanie. He tended to keep those emotions and thoughts at bay, and truth be told he wasn't sure she could handle the darkness that was his life. Marissa on the other hand...

Fuck! What was he thinking? She already had someone in her life. But then again, he wasn't interested or actively looking for a relationship. His life, the way it was right now, just didn't lend itself to all that romantic bullshit that was required in order to have one. Some might say it was a sad way to live, but Ranger was confident that in the long run it would be worth not being tangled up in that web. He liked his freedom, he liked not having to answer questions about his whereabouts, and he liked having solitude after a long, hard day; especially when takedowns went to hell and his men ended up getting injured. Those were the times when he pulled out the bottle of Macallan whiskey he kept for such occasions, and lost himself in the smooth, potent, gold-colored liquid. No talking. No explanations.

Her voice infiltrated his thoughts.

"Then what is up for discussion?"

His blank mask fell into place, hinting that the subject was closed.

"You've got to be kidding me?" she snorted.

He raised an eyebrow.

"With that look. Maybe it works here in Jersey, but in New York it's an invitation to be punched in the face."

A bark of laughter escaped him; a rare event in his life. It took courage to call him on his antisocial ways.

"You're a surprise." he stated when his laughter died down.

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

"You're tenacious in a graceful way. No wonder you always get your man."

She looked at him with interest. "You've been checking up on me?"

He slouched lower in his seat and his arm brushed up against hers. Her face grew somber and he realized the consequence of the action.

"I heard some of the officers talking. Idle talk. Mostly filler." he answered hoping it would placate her inquisitiveness.

No such luck. "Was it all good?"

"Well if you disregard the whole she's a lesbian because she's not interested in any of us talk, then yeah, it was all good."

She laughed, and it took his breath away. The sound echoing through the car and ricocheting straight to his groin. Christ!

"Do you think I'm a lesbian?" she asked as she lifted the binoculars to her eyes again.

He was slow to answer. More to stop himself from blurting out what his primal instinct was yelling at him.

"No." he answered simply.

"Then what do you think?"

Damn.

"I have a theory." he said, leaning in close.

"About what?"

"You."

She smiled hesitantly. "What is it?"

"I think you're an undercover superhero."

She smiled wider. "Do you now?"

"Yeah."

"Well good for me. I've managed to fool you."

He leaned back from his too-close position and smiled, breaking the spell of the blatant flirting that was going on between them. He knew that if continued, it would take them in a dangerous direction. But would that be a bad thing?

His phone rang. It was Stephanie.

"_Yo."_ he answered.

She asked him if he's heard anyone bragging about killing Ronald Anders.

"_No one's bragging about anything these days. The streets are quiet."_ he replied.

She then asked if there was a turf war.

"_Don't know. A couple players are missing. A couple dopers are dead. Got some hot shit going around killing people."_ He cut his eyes to Marissa. She was listening intently, and staring at him with those goddamn mesmerizing eyes.

Stephanie asked if the dopers' deaths were from overdoses.

"_That's the way the death certificates read."_

She honed in on his tone and asked what he thought.

"_Feels dark, babe."_

Then she hung up.

He closed the phone and glanced over at Marissa. She had a knowing smile on her face. Shit.

"Babe?" she inquired. "You call her babe?"

He ignored the question and stared out the window unseeingly.

She chuckled. "Man, Manoso you sure like torturing yourself. She doesn't know you like her like that, does she?"

He was saved from answering that question when Jackson walked out of the bar.

Galvanized into action, he was grateful for the distraction, and enthusiastically took Jackson into custody.

Later on that night, as a celebratory gesture, Rangeman bought the rounds at a local bar.

Ranger was on his fifth...or seventh drink when Carl Costanza came up to him and suggested that he drive a clearly intoxicated Marissa home.

"No funny business Manoso." Carl warned as Ranger down his drink. "We like her."

"You wouldn't have asked me if you didn't think she would be safe, now would you?"

"I asked you because you're the less drunk one out of all of us. Even Morelli is three sheets to the wind."

He jerked his head to the corner of the room where Morelli, Tank, Lester, Big Dog and Eddie Gazarra were trying to make a tower out of shot glasses. They would've been successful too if Big Dog would've been able to keep his hand steady, but as it were, he kept missing the tops of the overturned glasses and knocking over random bottles of beer scattered about the table. Marissa was cheering loudly, and at one point was so enthusiastic about her cheerleading skills she ended up falling on Morelli's lap and spilling her drink down the front of her shirt. The both laughed raucously, each lost in their own version of what was funny about the moment.

Ranger shook his head. God forbid the Burg grapevine found out about what was going on here tonight. He knew by the time it got around to Steph, Morelli would have gotten a lap dance from Marissa, who was an out of town stripper, brought in to entertain the guys. Christ!

He plucked a carefree Marissa off of Morelli's lap and managed to get her out the door. Ten minutes later they were in a taxi heading to her hotel.

Once in her room she offered him another drink, but he decided it was best if he stuck with coffee. He advised her that she should too, but she just shrugged at him and proceeded to raid the mini bar.

Unbeknownst to him, she was using the alcohol as liquid courage. She was almost at that point of total inhibition. Just one more drink.

"There's something going on between us." she started. She went to sit next to him on the bed.

"There is." he confirmed.

"But?"

"But we both know that it's a bad idea. It's better if we stop it right here."

She studied him. "It's because I have a boyfriend, right?"

He thought about lying and telling her that it was. But he knew that if he let himself get taken up in the moment he really didn't give a shit about her boyfriend. "It's because there's no future to it."

"Who the fuck wants a future?" she blurted out.

He was surprised by her honesty, but it still didn't deter him. "I may not be as drunk as you, but I know a bad idea when I see it."

He leaned in close on the last word. The proximity seemed to spur her on.

"Am I a bad idea?"

He chuckled at her innuendo. "You're not bad."

"I can be bad. I can be good too. I can do good things...and lots of bad things." she let her voice go husky and low...and sweet as she leaned closer in persuasion.

"Sounds interesting." Ranger murmured. He knew he was baiting her.

"Very interesting..." she said centimeters, a moment away.

Instant arousal and heat slammed into him as her lips latched onto his. It quickly turned combustible when his hands made their way underneath her t-shirt and his tongue entered her mouth. She tasted hot, and he reveled in the sharp heat being transferred into him.

This wasn't an emotional joining—they weren't at that level. They didn't need each other; they wanted each other in separate, desperate ways. So there they were at two o' clock in the morning in her hotel room. Him on top of her. Her legs wrapped securely around him, urging him on.

Ranger knew she had no limits at this point, and when that thought registered, he regrettably pulled away.

Fuck! He had more self control than this. What was it about this woman underneath him that made him act like a teenager?

"Listen," he said, staring into her lust-filled eyes, "If in the morning you'd like to continue this, give me a call. Because right now you're seriously drunk, and although I'm an opportunist, this is one opportunity I'm not going to take advantage of."

He had reverted back to his implacable attitude reluctantly, but she seemed to understand. She nodded and gave him a small smile.

"You don't like easy, do you?" she asked, as her hands played in his hair.

"Can't like something I've never had." His hands slid out from under her t-shirt.

She let that sink in for a moment. "You're still on top of me though."

"It seems I am." He made no move to get up.

"I don't want you to move."

"Really? Is this Marissa talking or the seven beers?"

She smiled. Her face flushing with the enthusiasm of it.

"I like you Manoso. You're weird."

He laughed. "You're not too normal either Agent Carter."

She'd left the next morning. There was no phone call. Just the memory. He knew it would happen, but he couldn't help being disappointed. But as was his way of dealing with situations that required an emotional investment, he'd gone down to the gym and worked out for two hours. The pain replaced the emotions, and by noon that day he had accepted what had happened and moved on.

Six months later he was standing beside her, dressed in Kevlar, with two guns and a knife strapped to his body, and a Glock in his hand, about to enter a drug dealer's stash house.

"You look familiar." she teased as she adjusted her vest.

He wasn't expecting her to react like this after what had happened between them months before. He was expecting aloofness, irritation...even a few curse words. But cordiality? This woman was surprising.

"I have that kind of face." he had replied going along with the playfulness.

"You must scare a lot of small children then."

He laughed and enjoyed the moment for what it was.

The weeks rolled into months, then years, and on rare occasions she and Ranger would meet up during conferences, tri-state takedowns, and if he had business to take care of in New York. Surprisingly, he had kept in touch with her via email and random text messages, and knowing how busy his life had gotten with the success of his business, she was appreciative of the fact that he actually took the time and effort to see how she was doing.

Now here he stood in front of her looking like an Adonis and tempting her with the sex appeal that oozed out of him effortlessly. His Anglo features and Latino eyes had a habit of mesmerizing women all over the fifty states. A fact he was aware of and used it to his advantage when the moment called for it. His straight black hair was slicked back in a ponytail today. He looked lethal. He looked like all the things she knew she was attracted too...and this was unnerved her.

"Stakeout, huh? Sounds...boring." he said with a smirk.

"It's the sound of my life." she said. "What kind of business did you have to do here? And where's Tank?"

"Company business. Tank went to do some shopping for his girlfriend."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Since when does he have a girlfriend?"

"Since he got kicked in the nuts by Caroline Scarzolli."

"That's his girlfriend's name?"

"No, that's the woman his girlfriend when to apprehend."

"Cop or bounty hunter?"

"Bounty hunter."

"It's not your babe is it?" She was intrigued...he looked annoyed.

"No, it's not Steph."

"Shame." she said shaking her head.

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"It would be the kick in the ass you need."

"And you're approving this why?"

"Because deep down it's what you want."

"She's still with the cop."

"If I remember correctly from a conversation we had over a bottle of whiskey, she's there because you sent her back there."

Ranger's lips tightened.

"That's right Batman. The blame is all on you now."

"I'm not what she needs."

"How do you know? You let me in, why not her?"

"That's different."

"Why? Because I don't need you?"

"Because we have an understanding." he explained.

Marissa rubbed her forehead in frustration. "Yeah, don't remind me."

"Is there a problem?" he asked as he tried to assess her mood.

"Only when I need it to be." she mumbled as she pretended to straighten a stack of papers on her desk.

He watched her. Something was going on with her. She seemed on edge. Uncertain. Almost vulnerable.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked. "And don't give me the bullshit answer. The truth."

She gnawed on a fingertip. A nervous gesture.

"I'm…dealing with something." She waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing. It'll work itself out."

He grew worried. "Is it your family?"

"No. It's…uhm…personal."

"Anything Tank and I should be on stand-by for?"

She frowned at him in confusion. Then the reality of his question sank in. She smiled.

"Please tell me you weren't suggesting beating up some poor guy for me."

He smiled back.

"God Manoso, that's so grade school. But I like the offer."

"I take care of the people I care about." he said, his mood turning somber.

She didn't know what to say to that. She'd never had a man make a statement to her like that before. But on the other hand a man like Carlos didn't belong in her life. His lifestyle was as dangerous as hers; even more so. Plus there was Stephanie...

There always had been Stephanie. The night he had driven down to see her and told her about his night with Steph was a defining moment in their friendship. The first two drinks she gulped down to lessen the jealousy that had unexpectantly flared up. The other four drinks were to cope with the emotions Ranger had let slip past his guard. He had been frustrated by the fact that spending the night with Stephanie only made him realize that he wanted her more than he had thought he did. He was caught between wanting to let her into his life permanently, and scared for her life and safety if, or when, his enemies decided to act out their revenge against him. He loved her. She was his _babe_. Marissa was only his friend.

His phone rang. It was Tank calling to tell him that Lula had made a surprised visit to his hotel room and he was going to be _busy_ for the rest of the night. Ranger put Marissa on the phone, and was thoroughly entertained as she put her interrogation skills to good use and rung every last bit of information she could get about Tank's and Lula's relationship.

"I'm glad you're happy." she said when he finished telling her how much Lula meant to him.

"What about you? When are you going to tell the boss man how you feel?" Tank asked.

"Nothing to tell." she replied woodenly.

"Maybe you should find something to tell him. I'm pretty sure he'll appreciate the gesture."

"What are you suggesting?"

She knew what he was suggesting, but she wanted to make sure he was as crazy as she thought he was.

"Nuh uh. I'm not giving you that answer so easily." Tank said with a laugh. "But let's say that maybe he was lonely. Let's also maybe say that he's tired of the games and the waiting. And let's say you get the whole man of mystery thing he tries to pull off and see right through it."

"That's a lot of speculation."

"And since you're the investigator, it should be your job to find the truth that's lurking in there."

She glanced at Ranger who had busied himself with the case folders on her desk. She wondered…

"What if I don't want the truth?"

Tank blew out a sigh. "Then you're not the smart woman I thought you were."

Marissa hung up and handed the phone back to Ranger.

"Seems like you're on your own tonight." she said as she snatched a file folder out of his hands.

The action caused the small ceramic jar of pencils she kept on her desk to tip over. They both reached to set it upright and their fingers brushed against each other. Marissa jerked her hand away.

"What time does your stakeout end?" Ranger asked, aware of the flush on her face.

"Depends." she answered. She looked at her watch. It was after 5pm. "If it's a bust I should be done by nine. If not, after ten, eleven."

"Have dinner with me after." he stated more than asked.

She shot him a look. "It'll be a very late dinner. Won't want you to die of starvation."

"I can wait." He was adamant.

"Is your body going to be a temple tonight?" she asked as she gathered up her things.

"Only if you're planning of worshipping in it?"

There were those double entendres again.

"Don't play with me Carlos." she said as she slipped on her coat. The way he was staring at her was making her stomach tighten in knots.

He gave her an almost smile. "Playtime's over."

Later on that night at her apartment, over a meal of takeout Chinese and beer, they caught up on each other's lives.

"How's Steph?" she asked in a mischievous tone.

He glared at her. "She's fine."

"You're still training her?"

"She's coming along. She asks for help when it gets to be too much."

She smiled then looked thoughtful. "That must be nice. Great way to cultivate a relationship."

"Hardly likely."

"So why haven't you made a move on her yet? Could the great Manoso be slipping in his game?"

He shook his head and smiled as he speared a piece of broccoli and popped it in his mouth. "I don't need game."

"Ha!" she said as a bark of laughter erupted from her. "Yeah, I'm sure your black book is the size of the Manhattan Yellow pages. So come on, spill already. What's the real reason you're stalling?"

His blank mask fell into place. He wasn't used to sharing his issues and emotions. In fact, he never did, and he wasn't about to start now.

"Where's your boyfriend tonight?" he asked.

She made a face at him and rolled her eyes. "You need to stop this mystery man bullshit. It's really annoying. And my boyfriend is probably with his new girlfriend. We broke up five months ago."

"What happened?"

"He asked me to marry him."

Ranger stopped chewing. "Explain."

Marissa put down her container of lo mein and picked up her beer. "He came to the office, got down on one knee, asked me to marry him...and I said no."

"Because?"

She played with the label on the bottle; seeming to gather her thoughts. "I just wasn't ready."

Ranger stared at her. Trying to figure out what was going through her mind. Lord, she was complex.

"I take it when you say you weren't ready, you actually meant you were never going to be ready."

She sighed. "I'm not that girl."

"What girl?"

"That girl. You know? The one who wants the husband, the kids, the house, that fucking annoying white picket fence. I can't be that girl. That girl would kill me."

"Then what kind of girl are you?"

"According to my mother a very depressed and suicidal one."

Ranger laughed.

"Is something wrong with me? Am I missing a few extra doses of estrogen or something? Because I like the way my life is. There's no pressure...well if you discount my mother's weekly phone calls about the lack of penis in my life."

"Are you lacking penis in your life?" He was amused.

She glanced up at him and narrowed her eyes. "It's not funny."

"Never said that it was. But if you're interested, I might have some penis I can lend you."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Is this from your personal stash or Rangeman property?"

"Personal."

"How long can I borrow it for?"

He made a show of looking at his watch. "It's available for the next six hours."

She bit her bottom lip. Thinking, rationalizing, reaffirming. Could she handle doing this with him? Would she regret it after? But then, what was regrettable about guaranteed great sex? She had to be sure though.

"Would there be strings?" she asked cautiously.

He nodded slightly. He didn't take sex lightly, regardless of public opinion. When he slept with a woman it was more than just feeding a craving; there were emotions, hopes, respect, selflessness, and vulnerability wrapped up in there...somewhere. Even if they went their separate ways after, they would still have a bond.

"There's always strings." he said. "These however are not the binding type. They're more like computer data strings...they store values and represent the memories not the actual event."

She tilted her head at him. "So what you're saying is that we wouldn't forget what happened between us, but revel in the fact that it did."

He smiled. "Damn you're smart. You should work for the FBI."

She laughed heartily at his joke.

They were silent as they finished up the rest of their meal, each lost in the thoughts of what was said and what wasn't, and what was to come.

"Are you like this around her?" she asked breaking the silence.

"No."

"You should be." she stated. "I think she might like it."

"She thinks I'm Batman."

She looked him over. Eyes running across his black t-shirt, cargos and boots. "I wonder why."

"Smart ass." he said and threw a fortune cookie at her.

"Hey! Don't make me arrest you for assaulting a federal officer." she threatened as she laughed and threw the cookie back at him.

"If that's the case I'm gonna make it worth my while then." he said as his eyes turned liquid black and he lunged at her.

She was ready for him. And when they came together that night, in an entanglement of limbs, lust and acceptance, they both knew they would be in each other's lives as long as they were alive...which in their line of work was saying a lot.

Early the next morning, after a few quick kisses and teasing banter, Ranger slid into his Mercedes and went back to Trenton. Marissa was surprised with what she felt as she watched his taillights disappear as he turned out of her carpark. She actually felt happy...contented even. It could've been that her hormones were still in overdrive, but she knew herself and her emotional state after sex. This felt different. There were no "what ifs", no "maybe's" and definitely no "could be's". It felt weird, but she felt calm. Maybe she was finally growing up. Maybe she was finally accepting that she couldn't control everything around her. She glanced at the clock on her wall; maybe she should get her ass dressed and off to work before she got written up.

She had been at work for two hours when he called.

"Are you okay?" he asked when she answered.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Where are you?"

"Going down in the elevator to the conference room."

Silence. Memories. Longing.

She was the first to recover. "So…uhm…are we going to be uncomfortable around each other now? You know, because of the sex thing."

He loved her candidness. "Does it feel uncomfortable?"

"No." She let out the breath she didn't even know she had been holding, as relief flooded through her.

"Any regrets Mari?"

She smiled. "No."

He only called her Mari when he felt something strongly. He had said it once before. A few hours ago, when he was buried deep inside her. Their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling, their eyes searching; each wanting something, reaching for it but unable to grasp it. As he began to move within her, her name slipped out—softly. She looked up at him and was immediately lost in the black pool of desire staring back at her. He whispered in Spanish to her, not knowing that she understood what he had said.

"_Qué hace usted a mí? Yo no busco una relación, pero usted lo hace duramente no desear uno. ¿Qué hace usted a mí?"_

_What are you doing to me? I'm not looking for a relationship, but you make it hard not to want one. What are you doing to me?_

She didn't know how to answer him. She had wanted to answer him. To tell him how she laid awake some nights thinking, remembering, masturbating...his name on her lips. But that wasn't what he wanted to know. She didn't want him to know. It was her secret. Her yearning. Her sadness. But his declaration, albeit in a different language, had made her wonder. Had made her question if he had wanted the same thing too.

Ranger leaned back against the elevator wall with the phone to his ear listening to the sound of the voice of the woman he had been in bed with only a few hours ago.

He had accepted what happened between them. He had waited patiently for it to happen. He had been ready for it to happen. Steph was moving on with her life with Morelli, and he realized that stolen kisses in the alley just weren't going to cut it anymore. He needed something more.

He wasn't looking for a relationship. The logistics of how that would work together with his lifestyle boggled even his mind. But he needed companionship. He was getting tired of the lone wolf culture that was his current life. He wanted someone who knew the gravity of the dark path he walked, who understood the fucked up way his life worked, and who called him on his antisocial ways. He made the choice. He wasn't sure Steph would understand it, but he knew she would support it. But then again, he didn't have to tell her. She didn't know Marissa...didn't have to. But...

"Are you free this weekend?" he found himself asking.

"Why?" He had surprised her by the question.

"Do you ever actually answer questions?" he asked with a smirk, using the same line she had used on him.

She laughed; a husky sound. "Yeah, as far as I know I'm free this weekend."

She was curious...and hopeful. Why was he asking this?

"Good. Because I have a theory."

"About what?"

"You."

She smiled at the memory of him saying those exact same words on their stakeout together all those years ago. "I'm still not a lesbian."

"What about a superhero?"

"Fooled you again Carlos."

He wasn't so sure.


End file.
